


Even When I Lose My Head (Guillotine)

by IWriteSinsNotStraightLines



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (implied) Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), (mentioned) Braeden/Derek Hale, (mentioned) Hale Family, (mentioned) Hale Pack - Freeform, (mentioned) Jennifer Blake/Derek Hale, (mentioned) Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Derek Hale Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hale Family Feels, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Nogitsune Trauma, Post-Canon, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, Stiles and Derek are Good Boyfriends, hale fire trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26710531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteSinsNotStraightLines/pseuds/IWriteSinsNotStraightLines
Summary: Curiously enough, Derek was the one who called for it, after the third time Stiles had screamed himself awake with him in his bed.In theory, it was simple-- take your trauma, or at least the pieces of it you could stand to talk about, lay it bare and let it bleed, make sure the other person still wants you with everything out in the open.Stiles looked over his own dull, tired eyes, bitten lips, shaking hands in the mirror and wondered if he was about to lose the love of his life, but agreed anyway.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 21
Kudos: 224





	Even When I Lose My Head (Guillotine)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely people! I hope this is finding everybody in good health and wellbeing. 
> 
> I did this fic in dedication to September being National Suicide Prevention Month. It's a really important topic for me, and I wanted to do something for it, and kind of close this month out with a bang, which is why I waited until now to post this. I hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> The title comes from "Guillotine" by Jon Bellion, which gives me BIG Sterek vibes. 
> 
> Happy reading!

Like most of the significant events in his life, Stiles has no clue how he and Derek happened. 

They just kind of clicked between the sarcasm and the less-than-strictly platonic concern for each other, like a part of him he hadn’t known he’d been missing. 

The evolution from disgruntled strangers to reluctant allies to kind-of sort-of friends to pack to family to anchors to desperately in love, I-hope-I-marry-this-man is a surprisingly smooth one. 

Derek became someone he counted on, someone he trusted in a world of betrayal, and then developed further, into the person he called _first_ , got sweaters for, shared his bed with. 

Which isn’t to say they didn’t have their fair share of battles fighting for their love, their relationship, each other. 

***

Curiously enough, _Derek_ was the one who called for it, after the third time Stiles had screamed himself awake with him in his bed. 

In theory, it was simple-- take your trauma, or at least the pieces of it you could stand to talk about, lay it bare and let it bleed, make sure the other person still wants you with everything out in the open. 

Stiles looked over his own dull, tired eyes, bitten lips, shaking hands in the mirror and wondered if he was about to lose the love of his life, but agreed anyway. 

The anguish and fear on Derek’s face scared him more than the prospect of being alone did. 

He’d asked Lydia- who’d actually been one of the people most supportive of him and Derek- about it and she’d agreed with it being a good idea. 

“Think of it like an infection,” she’d told him, braiding her hair with deft, clever fingers. “You have to lose all the bad shit before the wound can truly heal. Plus, it gives you both the opportunity to decide this _is_ what you really want. There’s no downside, Stiles.” 

Other than the fact that he’d have to _talk_ about it. 

About everything he’d been bottling up within him-- the nogitsune, his mom, his dad, Gerard, Scott, the darkness which had been taking root inside him ever since he became a tribute to that stupid fucking tree. 

Every reason Derek could possibly have to not want him.

Everything. 

But here he was, slipping on his shoes and tucking his keys into his pocket. He didn’t bother packing an overnight bag, even though he was planning on staying over-- he knew he already had clothes at the loft, or could borrow Derek’s. 

His dad- who was startlingly chill with it, but Stiles suspected he was just glad he was talking to someone about it at all- gave him a smile on the way out, clapping his shoulder and wishing him luck as he headed off to the station. 

He hoped he wouldn’t need it. 

He made the drive in silence, his knuckles aching from how tight he’d wrapped them around the wheel. The nerves threatened to choke him as he pulled his Jeep in next to the Camaro but he set his jaw and stubbornly swallowed them down. 

He locked it up behind him, exhaling slow, and began the slow climb up to the loft. He let the burn in his calves and his internal cursing of the broken elevator distract him until he was timidly knocking on the front door. 

Derek slid it open and gave him a soft smile. 

He offered his hand and Stiles took it, letting him pull him through the doorway and into a kiss. It used to surprise him how gently Derek handled him, held him, claimed his mouth. 

He pulled away, squeezing Stiles’ hand and tugging the door closed behind him. 

He frowned at what was probably a terrified expression on his face. 

“Stiles, we don’t have to.” 

He shook his head, “I’d be lying if I said I want to. But I do think it’ll do more good for us than bad.” 

Derek nodded his agreement, still looking conflicted, before taking Stiles’ hand and leading him upstairs to his bedroom. 

Stiles quirked a brow and Derek shook his head, amused. 

“Maybe later. I figured it would be easier if we were somewhere we could both be comfortable. And seeing as how I live here and you sleep in my bed more often than yours at your dad’s, it seemed like a safe bet.” 

Stiles nodded his agreement, toeing off his shoes near the door and pulling off his flannel to hang over Derek’s desk chair. He followed Derek- who had taken his top off to join Stiles’ overshirt and flopped down on the bed, burying his nose in the pillows- but kept his distance, sitting with his back against the headboard. 

Unsure. Uncomfortable. Ready to bail at a moment’s notice. 

“So how do we do this? Should one of us go first?” he asked. 

Derek peered up at him, “I think it would be better if we went back and forth. Baby steps, so we don’t have to deal with everything at once.” 

“So, what, _20 Questions_?” 

Derek smiled, reaching out to lace their fingers together, “Essentially.” 

Stiles nodded, psyching himself up, “Okay, you first.” 

Derek raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. “Why didn’t you tell me Peter offered you the Bite?” 

Okay. Easy enough. 

“It didn’t seem like a big deal. We all had other shit to deal with. And I said no, so I didn’t think it mattered.” 

Derek hummed, smoothing his thumb over his wrist, where he was almost bitten. 

“Does it count for a question if I ask how you found that out?” 

An impish grin and no answer. 

Stiles snorted, “Asshole.” He considered his options, sobering quickly. “Who gave you your tattoo?” 

He traced his fingertip over the inked swirls. 

He could hear the smile in Derek’s voice when he quipped, “You have a fixation,” before answering, “Laura did. Everyone in the pack had one-- I was meant to get it when I turned eighteen. She made the exception after the fire and did it for me. She knew I wanted to feel close to the others.” 

Stiles grazed a hand over his skin. 

“I’m glad she already had hers. She was always the better artist,” Derek said and smiled a little. He kissed the back of Stiles’ hand. “What do you dream about?” 

Stiles slid down to lie facing Derek, their clasped hands between them. 

“Like the nightmares?” 

Derek nodded. 

Stiles’ stomach lurched, but he ignored it. 

“The nogitsune, mostly. And stuff I did with it in me. Hurting you, Scott, Lydia. Killing Allison,” he shuddered, struggling against the urge to end this whole thing. “But sometimes it’s other shit. Gerard, and the time he kidnapped me. My mom, right before she died. Things that go bump in the night.” 

“It separated you before Allison,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, technically. But we were still linked. Bonded. That’s why it knocked me out when Kira stabbed the damn thing. I can remember it all through its eyes. I can remember _liking_ it.” 

“But it wasn’t you.” 

“Still feels like it was,” he mumbled. 

Derek sighed, pressing closer, “It _wasn’t_. You weren’t responsible. You can’t bottle guilt over something you had no control over, or else it’ll eat you alive. It’s _been_ eating you alive. That’s part of the reason why I’m making you talk about it.” 

Huh. That _could_ make sense, but it didn’t make it all any less painful. 

Stiles’ voice went soft around the next question, threatening to crack under the weight of it all, “What was your family like?” 

Derek gave him a small, broken smile. 

“It was big, for one thing. There was me, my parents and my sisters, but then also aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents all under one roof,” he huffed out a little laugh. “It was chaotic, to say the least. My mom- my mom was amazing. I looked up to her a lot growing up. She was always just so _good_ at leading the pack. She kept us out of trouble, and made sure everyone was okay, while maintaining our connections to other packs and groups around us. I think- I think I was the closest with her, out of me and my sisters. It was always me and her, hanging out or talking or whatever we were doing, so long as we were together.”

The fond light in his eyes dimmed, “She didn’t know about Kate. She knew something was off- she’d been there for me after Paige, so she might’ve chalked it up to that- but she never figured it out.” 

Stiles leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, “She sounds awesome, Der.” 

“She was. I wish you’d gotten to meet her-- she’d have loved you. My dad would’ve too. He was human, but the alpha mate just the same. Kind of like you. He told terrible jokes, and cooked for everyone most nights because my mom could burn _water_. He never let me down. Laura was a lot like him. 

She- she was smart, and funny. She liked to tease me growing up, little things like calling me Bunny, but would tear anyone who actually went after me apart. Relatives, or visitors from other packs would look at her and say, ‘ _There’s an alpha in_ that _one, just you wait_.’ She was going places, before the fire. But then she picked up the pieces and moved us both to New York, about as far away as we could get, leaving everything she had here behind. I never told her about Kate, but she was sure that something was wrong. She never believed that the fire was an accident. It’s part of why she went back.” 

Derek’s shoulders sagged, like a weight lifted from them, “It hurts, to talk about them. But I have all these good memories of them, and I don’t want to forget that before everything happened, we were _happy_.” 

Stiles squeezed his hand in solidarity, “Thank you for telling me about them.” 

Derek nodded, heavily. 

“What about your mom? Before?” 

Stiles gnawed at his lip, “She was- I don’t know, she was my _mom_ , y’know. She used to sing while she cooked. She taught me Polish, while my dad taught me English. She was funny, and bright, and just _loved_. She loved people. She got me out of trouble, even when I _did_ mess up. I miss that part of her.” 

Derek quirked a brow, “You don’t miss everything?” 

Stiles cleared his throat, words choking him, “No. Not from when she was sick. The dementia caused delusions. Distorted her worldview until her friends were her enemies, and everyone was out to get her. She thought I was a monster. Thought I was going to kill her.” 

He tapped his fingernail against a small, white scar near his hairline, “This is from her. She was having a better day, so we were spending time together. It was the first time I’d been able to see her in a while. But then, she shoved me-- said I was trying to murder her and she wouldn’t let me. I hit my head on the corner of her bedside table. My dad held her back, but she just kept trying to come after me.” He exhaled slowly. “That’s when we knew she wasn’t getting better. That she was never going to be okay.”

Derek gently traced the healed skin, outlining it with the tip of his finger, “I didn’t know that.” 

“I don’t- I don’t think I’ve told anybody else. I mean, my dad knew because he was there, but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it.” Stiles frowned, sifting through various questions in his head. “Why’d you come back? After you left with Braeden?” 

Derek’s expression went bittersweet, “I hadn’t been planning to, that’s for sure. When I left with her, I thought that was going to be it. Thought I was getting away from Beacon Hills and its ghosts and everyone I lost here. I tried to leave it all behind, but I could never really forget about it, y’know? And even though I wasn’t actually _here_ , it ate at me. How you all were, how the pack was doing. Then everything happened with the Hunters, and the FBI, and _you_ showed up, and I didn’t even have to think about it. I just went back, like I’d never left.” 

His face softened, “And, to be completely honest, I missed you. What Braeden and I had was good while it lasted, but we were on separate paths. She knew it, and so did I. When we broke it off, and I was alone, I started wondering how you were. And that turned into thinking about you and your face and how I felt. I wanted to be near you.” 

Stiles snickered, smoothing a thumb over Derek’s bottom lip, grin widening when he nipped at it, “Sap.” 

“The damage you could do to my reputation,” he snarked. 

Stiles smiled, and waited for the next question. 

“Why aren’t you and Scott the same? I mean, I can tell you’re still friends but it’s not like it was before I left.” 

Stiles blinked, frowning. And here he was thinking he was doing a good job of acting like nothing had changed. 

“Well, shit kinda hit the fan while you were away. It started when we were dealing with the Dread Doctors and the Chimeras, I think.” He scratched at his jaw, thoughtful. “Maybe even before that, I don’t know. But it all really started to fall apart after Donovan.” 

“Donovan?” Derek asked, a crease between his eyebrows. 

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat. 

Let it bleed. 

“I killed him,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to. He was trying to kill me, and I didn’t _mean_ to. But Theo- before he joined the good guys or whatever- got into Scott’s head. Told him stuff, made it sound like I beat him to death when it was really an accident. And Scott- Scott believed him. Wouldn’t believe me. And we’ve just never really gotten past it, y’know?” 

He sucked in a shuddery breath, “I don’t know, maybe I’m the asshole for being pissed over how quickly he was ready to think that I was some ruthless killer. Maybe it’s on me. But I haven’t been able to get over it, and he’d rather pretend it never happened than actually _talk_ about it so here we are.” 

There was a beat of silence, and Stiles had enough time to be scared that he’d gone too far, that this was it, but then Derek was pulling him into his arms, chuffing soft, comforting breaths into his hair as he struggled to hold back tears. 

“I’m sorry, Stiles.” 

“Why’re you sorry? It’s not like it was your fault.”

He could hear the frown in Derek’s voice when he said “No, but if I was here, I could’ve talked Scott into pulling his head out of his ass.” 

Stiles snorted, but sobered quickly, burying his face into the fabric of Derek’s shirt, “Maybe. But we’ll never know. And I won’t let you put that on yourself.” 

It was quiet for a moment before Stiles had to break the stillness, “Why did you believe me over Ms. Blake about my dad?” 

Derek shrugged a little, “Instinct. My wolf trusts you, and so do I. I have for a long time-- probably since you helped me after Kate shot me. Maybe even before. And even though she seemed alright, and I wanted her to be, I knew something was wrong. Something was off. So when you came in and told me, it all clicked.” 

“Huh,” he said, a little at a loss for words. 

Derek smiled a little. 

“Why _did_ you help me? Even though you hated me?” 

Stiles made a face, “Hate is a strong word. I don’t think I _ever_ hated you. I didn’t trust you, and you were scary, and a _werewolf_ , but I don’t think I hated you. And I’m a cop’s kid, Der. I know a victim when I see one. Even with all your grumpy, posturing bullshit, I could see you _needed_ help. You _needed_ someone on your team. And you were willing to help Scott with all the werewolf stuff, so I figured I would repay the favor. Backed you up when you needed it.” 

It was Derek’s turn to be speechless, a considering peace settling around them. Stiles grinned and nuzzled at his throat. 

“Do you miss Boyd and Erica?” 

Derek nodded, the motion making his chin rub gently against Stiles’ hair, “Every day. They were my betas, my responsibility. Kids. And I failed them. They died for my wrongs, and I won’t ever forgive myself for it.” 

Stiles pulled away a bit, enough to look at the grim determination plain on his face, “Ever?” 

Derek shook his head, “No. I should’ve known better. I can’t blame manipulation, like with Jennifer, or being too young to understand, like I can with Kate. It all comes down to me, and my bullshit that I shouldn’t have put on them. That’s not something I can let go of.” 

He wanted to protest, tell him that he shouldn’t place that on himself, but couldn’t find the words. Not when he was making so much sense, and not when Stiles himself could understand. 

He nodded instead, fiddling with his own fingers until Derek took them and intertwined them with his. 

“Last ones for tonight?” 

Stiles nodded his agreement, squeezing his hand. 

“Why didn’t you want to tell your dad about everything that was happening? You could’ve.” 

He huffed out a little laugh, “Honestly? I don’t really know. I probably should’ve. It’s been a lot easier with him in the know. But I guess I was scared. Scared of what he would do when he could see the whole board. Scared of what he would think of me. I already figured he would rather have _anyone_ else for a kid than me, but telling him that I was this pathetic, fragile human fighting other people’s battles in a world of werewolves and kanimas and hunters? It was too much. I thought it would break us, so…” 

He trailed off for a moment, before picking back up. “So I didn’t say anything until I had to. Until I knew that, if I didn’t, the consequences would be worse than anything that could happen with him knowing.” 

Derek grimaced, “I never thought of that.” 

He shrugged, “I mean, nothing really happened between us after I told him. If anything, things got _better_ between us. So I was just worrying over nothing.” 

He ignored the pensive expression on Derek’s face that he only got when he was _really_ thinking something through and asked his last question, “Do you still want this? Us? Even with all that out on the table. Even with everything we _haven’t_ talked about yet.” 

Derek looked startled, and almost offended at the suggestion that he wouldn’t, “What? _Of course_ I still want us, Stiles. _I love you_ , remember? That means _all_ of you, not just the pretty bits and pieces. That means I love the scars. And the pain. And the humanity. Everything, because it’s _you_.” 

Stiles’ mouth fell open a little bit, and he- who had been taught through blood and broken promises that things which seemed too good to be true probably were- searched for a lie. 

And found _nothing_. 

“You’re serious?” he asked, voice small.

Derek softened, “Yeah, Stiles. I’m serious.” He hesitated a moment. “And you? You still want me?” 

Stiles’ voice came out loud and incredulous, “ _Do I still want you_? Do you know who you’re talking to? Hate to break it to you, but it’ll take more than that to scare me off, big guy. I'll hang around until you kick my ass out.” 

Derek smiled, gold-green-grey eyes shining even in the darkness around them, “And if I never do?” 

Stiles stalled before setting his jaw stubbornly, “Then I guess you’re stuck with me.” 

Derek pressed forward, swallowing Stiles’ yelp of surprise as he claimed his mouth. Stiles- after floundering for a moment- kissed him back, pouring his heart, his lungs, his _everything_ into it. 

He pulled back after a minute, smirking a little at Stiles’ glazed eyes and puffy lips, “I guess I am.” 

That night was the first of many where whispered confessions, inquiries and answers dominated their conversation. 

Stiles ended up telling Derek shit he hadn’t thought he would ever share with another soul, let alone someone he was _dating_. He’d been apprehensive at first- he could tell Derek was too, that he was terrified of having to dig up all the devastation he’d gone through- but it got easier every time he’d done it, like the words only needed some encouragement to come flooding out of him. 

Each time, he’d take a breath, spill his guts, ask him if he still wanted him. If he still wanted _them_ , together. 

The answer has never changed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated! 
> 
> Keep yourselves healthy, and safe. Reach out to the people around you and in your life if you need help or support. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. 
> 
> Until next time! 
> 
> \- Sins
> 
> Find my Tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/iwritesinsnotstraightlines


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